When There Was Light
by kasura
Summary: Thingol's thoughts after receiving the Silmaril.


When There Was Light

by Kasura

Chapter 1: Thingol

My daughter's doom tempted me each night after the sun shed her last rays like a tired maiden discarding her fine robe for her rest, when its terrible beauty most potent. My beautiful daughter, her eyes ever seeking for windows in the enclave of my dark, infinite tunnels and caverns, where the sun was supplanted by thousands of firefly lights, shimmering in ghostly white globes, her feet lightly twirled on the paved crystallite steps, her silver gray skirt fluttered under the misty lights like the frail wings of a butterfly, I shall lose her soon to the ravage of time. Whereas her bride price remains forever, nestled on my polished oak desk, mocking my poor choice of trade, a daughter borne of my innocent love for a cold jewel that never called me Adar nor hold my moonlight hair in its tiny hands begging for bedtime stories.

I thought I was clever then.

With bitterness in my heart, I hold the light of Aman, diminished into a rock in my palm, still glorious, like the bright eyes of my dear wife. I remembered my first and only excursion outside of my beloved birth land, beholding the Trees in their magnificence. We were bathed in the lights, believing in our invincibility, drunk on the glories of the blessed realm, when we knew neither war nor slaying of kin nor marring of our brethren to twisted mockeries, the other Children.

In the name of love, we sacrificed, my people and me, and received a new name, _moriquendis_. Dark elves we have been and always are, now we hold paradise within the damp caves we dwell, paradise in Arda Marred from the light in my palm. Perhaps this is Eru's way of telling us he loves us, that we are still his children despite inhabiting in darkness under the starlight, under the same light that captivated our souls when we waken on the shore of Cuiviénen. That we are still blessed despite our hands bleeding from burrowing the naked earth to shelter our children from thralldom, and our rustic hymn of simple words, less ornery than the light elves, born from our heart and soul to honor his glories.

I felt the fire in the light, the fire of the Elf who had created the casing to capture this light of paradise. I touched the cool, smooth surface of the jewel, astonished at the ferocity of the heat emanating from its light. His fire touched my soul, searing, caressing, and whispering enchantment of the forbidden. His lyrical, deceptive words taunting me, daring me to surrender myself to light, to abandon reality for paradise, he must have bound himself to the light to create his highest artistry. I almost succumbed, to the saccharine words and the promised ephemeral delights, had I not have Melian to anchor me to the rugged earth. I understood him, I understand his destructive obsession, the passion that led him to slay my innocent kin in the other side of the ocean. Who in Arda Marred does not crave paradise in their hands? Each night, when I retired to rest, the jewel flared on my chest in subdued light, his warmth enveloped me as I entered Lorien's domain, floating in his passionate songs.

Despite her ardent warnings, Melian couldn't resist staring at the jewel, drawn by the captured light of her carefree years. She would sit next to our marriage bed in our enormous bedchamber reminiscing, her spirit captive in the fana of an ethereal elf lady. Her silence barricaded me with no outlet for me to offer my arms to comfort her, to help her forget the joy of dancing with the air, her lost daughter and her sisters. I knew there are crevices in her heart and her mind that I can't reach, but I will build every bridge needed to cross the barriers. I promised myself silently when I was lured into the forest by the mystical song and lost myself in her starry eyes.

If illusion can make us free, if it can strengthen us, then I shall bear it. I wore the light around my neck to remind my people, to comfort my beloved wife, that we live in our own paradise, that our choice does not diminish us.

When the axe fell, the light was extinguished. My soul tumbled into a hall of hushed darkness, into his knowing smile.


End file.
